Various Artists

Loosies

Fool's Gold; 2012

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By all appearances, Loosies, the latest Fool's Gold compilation, is a state-of-the-label deal that favors the trendier strains of mollied-up club rap. The liner notes play up the hip-hop-for-ravers ideal that founders A-Trak and Nick Catchdubs have been building up for five years, with an emphasis on the notion that there's room for all kinds of approaches-- "dungeon ciphers, club shit, BBQ basslines, MPC madness," and so on. (This is the label that put out Danny Brown's XXX, so yeah, no kidding.) If you're skeptical about this kind of stuff, this probably won't change your mind; if you're open to it, you've got 22 chances to get your mind blown. Business as usual, right?

But whether or not this label had a hand in upending your own conception of hip-hop orthodoxy, Loosies stands out in its own way. Not just as the summary of a certain boutique-brand view of rap, but a time capsule-worthy rundown of what people argued about and flipped out over in midstream indie-adjacent hip-hop circa 2012. Some people defined their year through Juicy J's inability to say no to "ratchet pussy"; some through El-P's Scorsese-protagonist urge to find human connections in NYC's more isolated corners. A-Trak pulled them together on the same track, a remix of his "Piss Test" that also recruits blunt-force Dipset vet Jim Jones and drugged-out nu-New York phenoms Flatbush Zombies. It's an unlikely alliance, but the point is that they all fit over a beat that proves once and for all that trance synths and trap beats can actually combine into something that could play anywhere.

The other name artists live up to their reps-- good thing, since this comp practically lives and dies by them. Danny Brown's "Molly Ringwald" maintains his between-albums profile with an all-in, no-hook tirade with his flow cranked to its most maniacal; AraabMuzik's beat fittingly streamlines the impact of the superclub pastiche that made him a crossover star. Freeway is preposterously grimy over "Dedicated"'s vintage soul-- at this point, it sounds like he's got a twin-screw supercharger whirring away inside his voicebox. Action Bronson and Party Supplies provide a Blue Chips-worthy one-verse wonder in "Twin Peugeots", where Daptonian horns underscore French hot-hatch fetishism, kegel-exercise jokes and NBA Jam-era namedrops en route to Rutger Hauer-inspired lunacy ("Blind Fury/hoppin' out the braille Jeep") and an outro monologue about how he vacationed with your mom "on a boogie board doin' all types of stunts." And while King L's "Talkin Foolish" is borderline sociopathic and less capable of converting drill skeptics than "My Hoes They Do Drugs" was, at least he seems more interested in channeling his sound through truck speakers instead of Tumblr likes.

That leaves a bunch of up-and-comers and developing cult figures to round out the rest of the collection, and they typically fill one of two roles. The more common one is the contender trying to make headway in an SEO-driven, free-for-all fashion-rap context, staying ephemeral in a safe lane. There's A$AP-shadowing cloud rap (GrandeMarshall's "Kelly Green"), revivalism that channels 50 through '95 (Troy Ave's "Viking"), one-size-fits-all half-trap delivered with a murmury, bloodshot deadpan (Problems' "8 Feet Tall")-- nothing spectacular, but maybe worth keeping an eye on in case their potential pans out. After a while, Loosies becomes monotonous to the point of oppression, in terms of delivery and subject matter: the pussy/liquor/drugs strain of burnout swag is omnipresent, but isn't outrageous enough to rise above blandly arrogant dick-swinging. So the cuts that break the tedium are priceless, like Casey Veggies having goofy fun over boogie funk on "Sauna", Gita delivering a razor-tongued ...So Addictive mutation on "Let That", and the woozy float of E-40 scion Droop-E's closer "Mind Gone," which is so far above the clouds it's scraping the exosphere.

A-Trak and Catchdubs probably called this collection Loosies for a reason-- like the bodega cigarettes, the piecemeal approach makes more practical sense than springing for the entire pack. (Then again, they did tack on a 70-minute continuous mix of the compilation as an extra track, so they're leaving all the options open.) Uneven as it is, Loosies does a decent job of scraping up some quality material from some of the most buzzed-about artists, letting a handful of unknowns grab at the spotlight, and dropping the occasional early-warning breakthrough when you least expect it. You know you've run across a pretty good comp when you gut half the tracks out of its over-stuffed running time and still have a half-hour's worth that holds together as something worthwhile. Not bad for business as usual.